The Short Walk Home
by WholeMilk
Summary: Toby finally finds himself involved in some intrigue - but what the intrigue actually is forms the bulk of this mystery. Be careful what you wish for Flenderson!
1. Chapter 1

"You, Sir, are a complete idiot." And with that Michael Scott left the annex and made his way back through the kitchen to his office.

Toby was used to this type of insult. Juvenile and scattershot. Toby had been on the receiving end of Michael's tantrums since he first got hired at Dunder Mifflin. It hadn't taken Toby long to realize that he had been put in the position to be Michael's joykill (and necessarily so) and Michael loathed him for it. It was exhausting. Of ten times Toby would imagine what it would be like if he just phoned it in, just let Michael have unfettered free reign, for even a month. One month. Toby laughed to himself at the potential outcomes. Fires, larger fires than they'd already had, workplace injuries, vanished employees, and, of course, lawsuits. For if Michael Scott was anything, he was a liability to the company. Now you may ask, how is Michael Scott still employed? Anywhere? Never mind at Dunder Mifflin? Never mind as Regional Manager? Well sometimes there are cracks so large that even a moron of Michael Scott's size can slip right through. Never forget that. Toby never has.

Toby got through his days of insults and endless, useless paperwork with a mix of imagination and delusion. Toby would supplement his lunch time detective story reading with daydreams of an exciting life. Days dreams where he gets the dame, where he dodges the punch and returns one of his own, where his shoulder holster slides cleanly over sore shoulders. But then there were the moments of delusion, moments of a type of self-medicating that tricked him into being excited. New binders, new protocol. He would catch himself looking forward to using some form he's never had the chance to and he wouldn't know whether to laugh or to cry. He was a cliche.

However, Toby had seen something the night before. It was on his walk home, his usual walk home. But it had been unusual. It had become anything but usual. Toby loved to pretend adventure as he made his way home. Just under a mile, the walk had a lot of twists and turns, and Toby often — no, constantly — dreamed of something jumping out of a dark hedgerow, the flash of a blade, the squeal of a car's tires — anything. But it was always nothing, nothing more than his own unanswered wishes. Until it was something.

Toby had to ask himself over and over if he had actually seen it or had he just reached his limit of boredom and banality. Was it a hallucination pushed forth from his empty life? No, no, it wasn't. It had been real. It wasn't a shadow that he imagined to move — though it was a shadow. The shadow of a man and he stepped out off who know's where and onto the sidewalk two blocks ahead of Toby. Slow and smooth. Swinging a small length of walk looked like a chain leash. Toby thought he almost heard the jingle of the chain links but he wasn't sure. He couldn't be sure. Yes he could! He was. Toby had seen the man. But who was he? And how could Toby find out?


	2. Chapter 2

When Toby arrived at his apartment he didn't know what to think. He had seen what he had seen — but what had he seen?

Toby knew every single brick and curbstone, every single square of sidewalk masonry from Dunder Mifflin to his building's front steps. He knew every alley cat and every loud TV. He felt like he was in every bad relationship he heard fighting on the second floor of every six unit brickface. He saw the same people at the same time. More in the summer, less when the mercury dipped. He answered only his own whistle — until tonight.

Who the hell was that guy?, Toby thought to himself. He kept thinking as he took off his tie, kicked-off his shoes that were somehow both too tight and too loose, and poured himself three fingers of the best he could afford. In fact he thought about it right up until there was a knock on his door. Then he had another thought. Specifically, who the hell could this be?!


End file.
